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by mossyflesh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Detention, Gay, Gay Draco Malfoy, Gay Harry Potter, Gay Sex, Love/Hate, M/M, Original Character(s), Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:08:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26122468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mossyflesh/pseuds/mossyflesh
Summary: It is early autumn, but the heavy fog around the castle feels forced, unnatural, as though it were put there without nature's permission. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are entering what they think will be the worst school year of their lives. Both have tasks to complete, the difficulty of which is well beyond the skill set usually expected at seventeen. Are they more similar than they think? Will they overcome the burden of having to take a small amount of time out of their busy schedule of schoolwork and plotting to go to the strange new detention set up? Their sixth year at Hogwarts has already gotten off to an unusual start, as worlds that should have never met start to intertwine …
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





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**Prologue**

_The old man paced around his office, occasionally stopping to pear out the window, or glance quickly at the visitor sitting haphazardly in his chair. He looked exhausted, and he was. He was pacing. His visitor sat, slumped, her legs dangling over the arm of his chair –_ his _chair, not the one reserved for visitors, but his. He could barely remember her getting up and sitting up in it when he’d begun pacing. It felt like years ago. Is this it? He thought. Is this how she always gets her way?_

_His visitor tugged at her long hair, her face calm but her fingers frustrated, nervous. She picked up a strand and began plaiting it. She looked up at him, and he froze. He realised he was watching her. She scowled, and when she opened her mouth to speak, he was almost afraid._

_‘I can wait here all day, you know.’ She told him. ‘I know all too much about waiting.’ He shook his head and looked away from her, starting his pace again._

_‘Is that what this is about? You want me to feel guilty?’ She laughed, and it was easy, carefree. Her hands shook around the messy Plait._

_‘I think you know that’s not what this is about at all.’ He shook his head, again. It was all he could do. He stood in front of his window, staring out into the snow. She was winning. She’d never won before. Usually, he was the one that chose the options, forever the winner. Was he? Or was she just letting him win? He watched her in the dark reflection of the window. She got up – for the first time, her long hair moving with her, the small braid unfinished and standout. She stood next to him, looking out into the night._

_‘The only reason I won’t give up now,’ she started, quieter, an almost pleading tone he’d never heard from her before, ‘Is because I know you know I’m ready. And that anything about me holding me back is something I can change, dilute.’ Her face was stone, but her hands were still shaking, held loose to her side by her arms._

_‘I don’t have much time left.’ The old man looked at his visitor, young, strong, almost childish in appearance, and against all physical evidence, he believed her._


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